


Narrow Road

by chrysalde



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: College AU, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalde/pseuds/chrysalde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked at Mondo and all of the disappointment in the world was suddenly tangible, visible behind his eyes and in his brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Narrow Road

                He looked at Mondo and all of the disappointment in the world was suddenly tangible, visible behind his eyes and in his brain.

                That was the last thing Mondo wanted, but he didn’t know what he was expecting.  He was disappointed in himself, too, but this guy hadn’t even said two words to him and he was looking like he was about to cry. The expression on this kid’s face said something sort of like “what do you mean, my hamster isn’t coming back?” or “why don’t mommy and daddy love each other anymore”?  As much innocence-crushing pain as was possible for someone his age, and Mondo was pretty sure this kid was his age, so at least 20 or so.

                “Are you going to start sobbing or are you going to start… uh, whatever you’re s’posed to be doing here.”

                “Counseling.” The young man answered, with more firmness than Mondo was expecting from someone looking like they saw their dog get hit by a car.

That made Mondo think about dogs being hit by cars, and Mondo didn’t want to think about dogs being hit by cars. He put his feet on the table, hoping that getting comfortable would signal this guy to move on.

“Please take your feet off of the table!”

“Christ…” Mondo obeyed, but twisted his upper body to the side and rested his hand in his chin, looking away from the counselor.

“You’re Mondo Oowada, correct?” The counselor tapped some papers. “I’m Kiyotaka Ishimaru, president of the peer mediation committee.”

“The big man himself, huh?” Mondo’s eyes shifted toward Ishimaru a little, and he noticed he was sticking his right hand across the table. Mondo was resting his head in his right hand, so he left the handshake hanging.

Ishimaru looked less distraught and more irritated, but was cracking a shit-eating grin anyway. He cleared his throat and shifted in his squeaky foldable chair, sitting up straighter. “We’re trying to make your experience at this school as pleasant as possible, Oowada. You told many people when you were first starting here that you ‘wanted to get [your] life back on track’…”

Mondo glazed out of the conversation because he didn’t need someone reminding him of what he said. It wasn’t like he forgot.

“…your woodshop teacher in particular wrote on your report that he thinks building is a positive outlet for your aggression, so it’s surprising that even after all that’s happened you still decided to…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ishimaru looked him dead in the eye. “Was your decision to hit Naegi not truly a decision?”

“Not that.” He didn’t want to be reminded of that. “The ‘after all that’s happened’ part.”

Ishimaru didn’t break or stammer, or even make a more sympathetic face, he simply answered “With what happened to your brother and all.”

The disappointment was gone, replaced by pity and a thick silence.

Mondo leaned back in his chair, hands firmly darting into his pockets. “So, peer mediator, was it? What kinda shit do you normally handle? Relationship disputes? Truancy? Telling everyone what classes they need to graduate?”

“If you do not do this counseling, you will not be allowed to graduate!”

Mondo tilted his head up, glaring at Ishimaru from the corners of his eyes. “What I’m sayin’ is you don’t know shit about my situation. You don’t know shit about my brother. You don’t know shit about me.”

The shit-eating grin made no sign of fading: if anything, the pity in Ishimaru’s eyes was disappearing. He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “But that’s why I’m here. So you can tell me what exactly it is that I don’t understand.”

                The tone on the words “don’t understand” was sharp, condescending, implying that Ishimaru sincerely believed that he “understood”. It made Mondo sick to his stomach. Was this guy trying to help him or not? If he was trying, he was doing a piss-poor job.  Mondo wondered if a vocational degree was really worth putting up with this smug asshole.

                He thought about it for a while, and decided it was.

                “You dress like an insurance salesman and are president of a student organization in a shitty-ass community college. I’m just sayin’, I don’t think we’re that much ali--”

                “What did you say? ‘Shitty-ass’? Are you calling this school a shitty ass?” The dude looked genuinely offended.

                Mondo raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I mean, yeah. Nobody even graduates, they just transfer to a bigger univ--.”

                “It’s a perfectly viable and acceptable way of obtaining a degree! Some people are simply more suited to the environment of a community college!” Ishimaru stood up, slamming his hands on the table. “The classes are smaller and it’s much cheaper. Many pressures of student life are removed, making it an easy transition for people who didn’t do well in high school. Like you, Oowada.”

                “Didn’t do well in high school” was one hell of an understatement. Mondo was only even enrolled in a high school for two months. He didn’t want to think about it. Luckily for him, he had just been given a really good point to bring up.

                “Why are you yelling at your patient, you fucking hack?!”

                Mondo shoved his chair behind him an assumed the same position as Ishimaru, palms slapped down onto the cheap wood table.

                “I’m not a doctor! You are a _client_!” Ishimaru’s breathing was heavy, “I am here to teach you that you don’t need aggression! The kind of aggression that you are showing right now!”

                “The kind of aggression that _I’m_ showing?! You’re the one who started pounding on the table like a six year old! Honestly, do you think putting up with this kind of shit is what’s best for me right now?!”

                “YES.”

                The next think Mondo knew, his hand was in a fist, hurting like hell, and Ishimaru was on the ground. “Shit, man, I—“ He squatted and put a hand on Ishimaru’s shoulder.

                The guy was fucking crying.

                He stood up. Maybe Mondo would have been confused, feeling some contempt for this overzealous weirdo, but given the situation, he only felt shame. He did it again. He fucked up again. Ishimaru was propping himself up on his elbow. Mondo ran out of the door as fast as he could. Mondo Oowada was nothing but disappointing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written a fanfiction in three years  
> also stay tuned for ishimaru and mondo not hating each other ;)
> 
> edit: also i tagged this as naeishi at first because i hecked up please dont pay attention to me i cannot work the archives


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